


Fathers and Other Four Letter Words

by kikanawj



Series: Tim Drake (and the greater DCU) [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Alfred Pennyworth, Protective Barbara Gordon, Protective Bruce Wayne, Suicidal thoughts only mentioned No attempt, Suicide, Tim Drake Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikanawj/pseuds/kikanawj
Summary: Jack Drake has figured out what his son's been sneaking off to. (But he doesn't confront Batman about it like in the comics. No. He has a talk with his son.)
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Tim Drake (and the greater DCU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759369
Comments: 25
Kudos: 531





	1. Tim has a bad night

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of Headcannon/work cannon context. This is post Janet Drake's death, Jack Drake and Dana are married.  
> Tim is dating Kon, but he's not in this work. Tim has a therapist and has already started to work through his issues. Well, acknowledging them them at least.

Tim was heading back from patrol. His motorcycle winding gently through the remnants of late night traffic. Tim saw a kid in a car wave at him. He sent him a salute back. It had been a long night without much action, all in all, not a bad day.

That should’ve been his first clue.

Tim changed out of his suit at the cave. He wished Alfred a goodnight and set back out into the night. He hopped onto a bus and changed at the terminal so that he’d be riding the line that connected the library to his neighborhood. Studying was always a good excuse.

Tim’s phone rang when he was two stops from home. It was his dad. He answered.

“I’m almost home, Dad. Five minutes tops.”

“Good. We need to talk.”

Jack hung up. Tim looked at his phone, confused. He’d been doing alright in school, even managed not to fall asleep in class all week. Or at least managed not to get caught doing it. ...had he forgotten to take out the trash?

Tim walked into the brownstone quietly, locking the door behind him. Dana’s car hadn’t been parked out front. She must’ve been having a late night at the office. His Dad was sitting in the living room, TV off, facing away from the entrance.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

Jack Drake got up from his chair and faced Tim, holding out a belt in his hand. Tim’s belt. Tim’s  _ Robin _ belt. 

Tim felt all the air leave his lungs. God, he was so stupid. He’d brought the belt home to tinker with the finer parts of his new wireless upgrades. He’d hidden it in his closet under the pile of dirty laundry. He was going to take it back tomorrow. God,  _ he was so stupid- _

“What is up, Timothy?” Jack asked, fury in his voice. “Because it’s certainly not what I thought you were hiding.”

Tim’s brain felt like it wa frozen, “That’s not-”

“Don’t you  _ DARE _ tell me this isn’t what I  _ know  _ it is, Tim!” Jack yelled. “I have been losing my mind worrying about you! I thought you might be on drugs, might be getting too involved with those thugs down at the skatepark, but no, NO. YOU’RE ROBIN? A goddamn vigilante?!”

Tim’s frozen brain manages to feel upset about the order of severity implied in that instead of coming up with something to say. 

“Dad, I- I….”

Jack threw the belt at Tim. He caught it, reflexes still functioning through his shock.

“This-! This stops RIGHT now! No more sneaking out! No more lying to me! No more  _ Robin! _ ”

“What?” Tim blinked, his thoughts were brought jarringly back online, “ _ No. _ ”

Jack looked at him like he’d grown another head. “What?”

Tim gripped the belt in hands white-knuckled, “I said, ‘No.’”

“Timothy, this isn’t up for discussion-”

“You’re right,” Tim interrupted, “It’s not. I’m Robin. I’m sorry you found out this way, and I’m sorry I’ve scared you, but this isn’t- this isn’t some school club you can pull me from.”

“ _ That I found out this way _ ?” Jack took a step towards him, hands gesturing, “What way was I supposed to find out, Timothy? At your funeral?”

Tim stared up at him. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“You’re my kid! How could you  _ ever _ think this was okay? Batman has you out every night risking your life for his violent vigilante kid gang-”

“I-” Tim blinked at Jack, taking in what he said. “Yeah, I’m your son. But since when have you been my parent?”

“Timothy.” Jack scolded, “I know I haven’t always been there, that work’s been a priority in the past, but I’m still your father. I’m not going to let you risk your life like this!”

“You’re not.” Tim said softly.

Jack gave him a confused look, “What?”

Tim cleared his throat, “You’re not ‘still’ my father. You- you neglected me for fourteen years.”

“Timothy-”

“I’m not TIMOTHY!” Tim roared at him, “That’s what  _ she  _ called me. That’s what  _ you  _ call me. I’ve asked you to stop. Multiple times.”

Jack backed down, holding his hands up, “You’re right.  _ Tim. _ I’m sorry, it’s just hard to break the habit. I didn’t mean to remind you of her.”

“Don’t say that like she’s the only one to blame.” Tim snapped at him, “Have you- you never even asked me about it. Fourteen years with little to no contact, and then- bam! Mom dies, you get remarried, and I’m just supposed to...what? Think you care about me now?”

“I’ve always cared about you-”

“BULL. SHIT.”

“Tim-!”

Tim took a menacing step forward,“You are  _ completely  _ full of shit. I was left alone for months at a time. I was isolated, from kids my own age, from nannies who started to give a shit, from anyone not willing to see me as another piece of furniture left to rot in the  _ fucking _ Drake Mansion.” Tim turned away from Jack. He couldn’t look at him. “You said you wanted to be a family, to really give it a try and make up for lost years. Well here’s your chance,  _ Jack _ .”

Tim clutched the belt in his hands, his thumb tracing the R. “This is who I really am. This is me. The me you never knew. And that’s your fault, not mine.”

Jack stood there, taking him in. His face was red, his hands on his hips.

“You lied to me, and it’s my fault? You snuck out of my house, lied to my face about it, and that’s  _ my _ fault?”

“Yes.” Tim replied without hesitation. “How was I supposed to tell you anything about me? Ever?”

“I have been here, Tim.” Jack implored him earnestly, “Every day since we moved here. Asking you about your school, your friends, your internship. I’ve taken you out to movies, we went to the Gotham Knights game last month. I’m trying, Tim, I’m here now.”

“What, you want a medal?” Tim scoffed, “Am I supposed to be grateful? Now that you’ve remembered you have a son. Everything is a-okay now because you want to play house. Fuck what I need, right?”

“What you  _ need  _ is an intervention.” Jack took a menacing step forward, “Some strange man has convinced you to sneak out at night, put on tights, and go toe-to-toe with murdering psychopaths!”

“ _ I _ convinced  _ him. _ ” Tim said, deathly quiet, “ _ I  _ sought  _ him  _ out. I was already out on the streets every night. I saw how much he needed me, how much Gotham needed me. And I convinced him to see it too. I have saved this city, the world, ten times over. Because Batman listens to me, and believes me.”

Jack opened his mouth, “You are a child-”

“I am! I’m fifteen years old. And for the vast majority of those years I was alone. If you’re so desperate for a son to be worried about, one that needs someone to get mad on his behave and be protected, you better get a fucking time machine. Because the Tim Drake who needed you to love him doesn’t exist anymore. He died of neglect while you were sipping wine in Milan.”

Jack had tears in his eyes now. Tim felt viciously satisfied with that.

“I’m not going to give up my life, my friends, my  _ real _ family. I’m not going to stop doing what I love, what I’m good at and respected for, just so you can live out some fantasy about having a normal nuclear household. If you’re actually worried about me, then worry. But don’t think-  _ for a second _ \- that you have any real say in my life.”

“What are you- Do you even hear yourself?” Jack took a step towards him, “Tim- we were arguing about what toppings go on hot dogs yesterday, now I’m not your father?”

“You don’t know me. You- the me you’ve known, these past months, these past years- I’m not some mild-mannered overachieving highschooler who gets winded tossing a football around with you. I’m- I haven’t been honest with you since I was five. I couldn’t be. I wouldn’t have survived.”

Jack sighed, “What does that even mean? Tim. Please. I just want you to be safe-”

“I’m suicidal.”

Jack flinched. He looked at Tim like he wasn’t real. Like he was seeing two different things in one place.

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I have depression, and anxiety. I live with a level of suicidal ideation. If I hadn’t found Batman, if I hadn’t become Robin, I wouldn’t be here. It gave me a purpose. I have a support system now. I have friends who check up on me, people who remind me to take my meds, and eat, and will spend long nights sitting next to me just to- just because they care about me.”

Tim wrapped his arms around himself.

“If I had stayed in that empty house, in that little box you and mom put me in, neat and quiet and out of sight, I would’ve killed myself. And no one would have found me for  _ months _ , because no one would have cared.”

Jack stood there with his mouth hanging open. When he spoke again, his voice sounded strangled.

“ _ Tim- _ ” 

Jack made a motion to wrap Tim in an embrace. Tim stepped out of his reach.

“Tim, please. I don’t- I can’t change the past. I am so, so sorry.”

Tim squeezed his hands into fists gently and then relaxed his arms. He was so tired from patrol. He’d been planning to shower at the Manor, use up all the hot water doing it, and then collapse into his bed at home. He was exhausted from this conversation, this emotional rollercoaster he’d honestly been meaning to avoid forever.

He either needed coffee, a twelve hour nap, his therapist, or some combination of the three. Maybe also a hug from his boyfriend. Or Bruce. Dick and Steph too.

“I don’t want an apology.” Tim said stiffly, “I’m not forgiving you. That wouldn’t be fair to me.”

“Tim,” Jack pleaded, “What- what am I supposed to do? How can I- how can I be a good father to you?”

Tim felt his patience snap, like a rusted wire. Jagged and sharp.

“Why don’t you actually  _ try?! _ ” Tim yelled, “Why don’t you do more research on how to actually parent?! Why don’t you take your head out of your ass and actually examine all the ways you’ve fucked up over the course of your life, and then actually  _ DO _ something about it?! I’m not going to hold your hand and teach you how to have a relationship with me! I’m the victim here, I’m the child-  _ YOU  _ were supposed to be protecting  _ ME _ !!!”

Jack had tears running down his face. “I’m  _ trying _ to protect you, Tim.”

“No,” Tim said firmly.

Tim marched up the stairs to his room, raising his voice to still be heard, “You’re trying to control me. You’re not listening to me, you’re not thinking of me, or my health, or my happiness. You’re panicking because your little fantasy about who-you-are-now is crumbling apart. You’re not a good father. You never were.”

Tim grabbed his go-bag out from under his bed and slung it onto his back. He grabbed his school bag and slid his computer, phone, and photos from his desk into it. He grabbed Dick’s hoodie from the back of his desk chair and Kon’s shirt from under his pillow and shoved them in with his electronics. He fastened his Robin belt on over his hoodie. He swung his school bag over his shoulder and marched back out into the hallway and down to the living room.

Jack’s eyes widened as he took in the luggage.

“What- where do you-? If you think you can just walk out of here-”

Jack’s hand landed on Tim’s shoulder, and Tim had to restrain himself from breaking Jack’s wrist. He settled for knocking Jack on his ass.

Jack hit the floor hard and looked up at Tim in horror. 

Tim stepped past him. “I can and I will. I’m done pretending this is my home.”

“Tim, please- you can’t- this is insane! Tim!”

Tim reached for the door as he pushed his call button on his belt for his bike.

“I’ll file a report with the police!” Jack shouted.

Tim’s hand stilled on the door.

“I’m serious,” Jack said hurriedly as he got back to his feet. “I’ll file a missing person report. I’ll tell them Batman’s kidnapped you. I’ll tell them that you’re Robin-”

“You’d be killing me.” Tim cut him off.

Jack gave him a bewildered look.

Tim’s shoulders sagged, “There are dirty cops in Gotham. And missing persons reports are public. You tell anyone I’m Robin, you’re putting my head on a platter. You. Would. Be. Killing. Me.”

“Then don’t walk out that door. Tim. Don’t make me do it.”

Tim exhaled, feeling light and maybe a little unhinged. It was an odd feeling; to lose the last shred of hope you had for someone. For something like a parent.

Tim tried to find the words- tried to think of a way to stab back at his dad. To hurt him like he’d been hurt, time and time again. To make him understand, to shake him and  _ make _ him feel even just a piece of the gaping hole inside his chest.

He turned the door handle and stepped out into the cold Gotham night air. His batcycle was waiting up on the curb. He pulled on his helmet and swung his leg over.

He opened up the throttle, and didn’t look back.


	2. What Comes Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, our conclusion....

"Robin to cave."

There was a pause before Alfred's calm voice responded.

"Acknowledged, go ahead."

"I'm coming in. Need a meeting with Oracle and B when I get there."

Alfred paused before responding, "Awaiting your arrival."

"I'm five minutes out."

"Copy."

Bruce was out of the cowl and his gloves, but otherwise still in uniform. Barbara was on video chat on the big monitor as Tim walked up from the vehicle bay.

"I thought you were going home." Bruce gave him a look over.

Tim sighed.

"My dad knows. He got suspicious and found some gear I had at the house. He knows I’m Robin. He confronted me and was trying to make me quit. I uh, kinda yelled at him. A lot. About everything. And kicked him, I think. Pretty sure I didn't break anything, but still-"

"Tim?" Barb interrupted, "Is that your go-bag?"

Tim nodded. "I left. Told him I wasn't staying there anymore. I couldn’t-"

"I’m guessing he didn’t take it very well," Barb sighed.

"He threatened to report me missing. To claim Batman had kidnapped me. He- he said he was going to expose my identity."

Bruce's posture stiffened. Barb's fingers were flying across her keyboard, the clacking coming through the speakers.

"Do you think he will?" Barb asked sharply.

Tim rubbed at his eyes. His everything was sore. He could feel a headache pushing its way into his awareness. He sighed.

"I don't know. I don't-" Tim's voice cracked, "I don't know what he'll do. I- I told him he'd be putting my life in danger if he exposed me but I don't- I don't know if that matters more to him than having control over me."

Bruce approached him and, mindful of his Kevlar suit, hugged Tim. Tim leaned into the embrace, hiding his face in Bruce's arm.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think he'd ever find out. I- he's paid more attention to me in the past months than ever before. I underestimated-"

"It's okay," Bruce said simply, "What's done is done. We'll figure out what he plans to do and act accordingly."

"Should I go back?" Tim's voice wavered. "I don't want this hurting everyone. If my identity leads to anyone getting exposed or put in danger-"

"Do you  _ want _ to go back?" Barb asked quietly. 

Tim was silent before shaking his head. "But if it's the safest thing to do for now-"

"Tim. We're not going to make you go back. Right, Bruce?"

Bruce squeezed him slightly before pulling back. He put his hand on Tim's shoulder, still holding him close.

"Your home life situation has changed.” Bruce looked into his eyes, searching, “In these past months when you've been interacting with Jack, you've been playing a part. You had that distance from him. Mentally, emotionally. A distance that is no longer there. Would you feel safe if you continued to live with him now?"

Tim shuddered as he thought about it.

"No. Never."

Bruce squeezed his shoulder, "Then you're not going back there."

-';;'-

Jack Drake filed no report. He attended the meetings he had on his schedule. He bought groceries and paid for oil changes on his car and even went out with his wife.

Dana asked him about Tim. He told her they were working through some things. She didn't push.

Jack Drake watched every report that aired anything about vigilantes. He cut articles from newspapers, printed out vlog posts about sightings. He spent a night waiting in his car across from Gotham PD headquarters. 

The light wasn't turned on that night. He didn't try again.

He sent three messages to his son's phone number. One the morning after their fight. One a week later. And one months later, on the anniversary of Janet's death.

_ 8:23 am - Come home Tim. This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous. _

_ 6:47pm - What are you going to do about school? They called me today about your absences. Are you really giving up on your whole life? Your throwing EVERYTHING away?!! _

_ 11:47pm - was it always this broken? _

Jack Drake sold his shares in his company and moved out of Gotham with his wife.


End file.
